


coming home to you

by sailormomotaros



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Trans Male Character, i feel like the mature tag is misleading because it's not even a paragraph of porn, pre-heavensward, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 01:11:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14727119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailormomotaros/pseuds/sailormomotaros
Summary: The Enchiridion says that to love each other is to be holy. To love is to be granted strength. Aymeric remembers the words so well from the texts the Lady de Borel would give him to read.





	coming home to you

The light shone through the stained glass windows, painting the somber white floors blue and yellow. This had always been Aymeric’s favorite chapel. It was quiet, it was beautiful, and there was a humbleness to it that he found some comfort in. It was a place of worship, first and foremost. His gaze wandered to his left, as it had been over the long night. The other man’s hair shone with the morning light, eyes shut and expression shuttered and contemplative, like… Well, Aymeric was a little embarrassed at the fanciful image his mind supplied, but garbed in the white clothes they all sat vigil in, he looked practically angelic. And then, flinty eyes met his, and Aymeric realized with more embarrassment that he was staring the other squire square in the eye. It definitely ruined the image, a little, the hard angles of his face and his sharp eyes. He looked away, back to the altar, past the heads of the others sitting vigil in preparation for the ceremony not… perhaps an hour from now, Aymeric guessed. He shut his eyes again, thinking about his fanciful little daydream, sending a quick apology to Halone.

 _...To Ishgard, you pledge your sword and your heart, to protect her and her children with your life. To Halone you pledge to carry out Her will, and honor her. As knights of the church, you carry out tasks most holy…_ His eyes were closed. Aymeric regarded the man with interest. Was it respect or boredom? His brows were furrowed, faintly, maybe suggesting irritation… Aymeric had put a name to his face, speaking to another squire before the sermon. Estinien. Ser Alberic’s protegé and ward. _...As She tells us, it is the duty of the strong to protect home and hearth..._ Aymeric had heard this and that about him. That he was stubbornly unpersonable, that his peers and teachers muttered about his frightening prowess. That he had seen the wyrm Nidhogg with his own eyes, at a tender age. Nobody had thought to mention that he was so very handsome, Aymeric mused.

“My name is Aymeric. You are… Estinien, yes? It would seem we’re to be stationed together.” His smile was met with a blank look, eyes narrowed in suspicion, and a curt “Aye. t’would seem so.” And then Estinien was walking away from him. Now Aymeric could see what they meant when they said _un_ _personable_. Or perhaps he was just shy.

\--

“A...Aymeric… _Fury_ , Aymeric.” Halone above, merciful Fury, what Aymeric wouldn’t give to hear that again, over and over, until the end of time. He lifts his head from where it was nestled between strong, scarred thighs to look at Estinien, flushed, body thrumming with energy and restraint. He licks the taste of him off his lips, and then shuts his eyes and listens to Estinien growl his disapproval.

His own voice is low as he breathes “Patience. Patience, my love.” And he dips his head down again, tracing a long scar at his hip with his fingers. Pleasure sings through him to feel Estinien jerk with each pass of Aymeric’s tongue over his clit, to hear him voice his approval, and a low, soft sound escapes him in turn. Would that he could live in this moment forever, he thinks dizzily.

\--

Aymeric opens his eyes, starting a little from the daydream. There’s a knock at his door, and he takes a moment to compose himself, wondering at the memory. “Come in?” And it’s a polite beat later before Lucia steps through the door.

“Lord Commander…” She begins, and Aymeric sits up a little more.

“Any news about him?” He asks, before she can finish.

“...No.” Lucia is looking at him patiently, but Aymeric feels flush with embarrassment anyways. He leans back.

“Pray, forgive me... Please, continue.” Lucia nods, and Aymeric can feel her gaze boring into him as he sits back, lacing his fingers together and trying to look attentive.

“Thank you. I come bearing news from Falcon’s Nest. Apparently they have sighted wyrmlings near the Convictory.”

“Ah…” Aymeric sighs. “We’ll dispatch a unit out there, then. Thank you, Lucia.” She nods, and then… she pauses for a moment, like she’s thinking.

“Ser Alberic has informed me that he has people out searching for him. And when they have found him, they will inform you first.” Aymeric closes his eyes, feeling faint relief.

“Please thank him for that, for me.”

“Of course…” Lucia eyes him, though. “If I may speak plainly…”

“Always.”

She’s still standing as stiff and soldierly as ever, though. “You cannot protect Ser Estinien from such a high crime. I sympathize, but I am concerned that you may hurt yourself trying to take responsibility for his actions. That is all.” Aymeric blinks, looking at her in surprise. But it brings a faint smile to his face, his shoulders sagging.

“Thank you, Lucia. You know I hold your opinion in very high regard. It is comforting to hear people speak bluntly, to me.” He traces his finger over his knuckles idly, and he shuts his eyes. “I will always do… what is best for Ishgard and her people. But Estinien is my friend. If I can find a middle ground… If I can help him, then I will. I have to.” Lucia sees the soft look in Aymeric’s eyes when he opens them, and he thinks that she probably understands.

“Very good, then.” Lucia pauses again, a pregnant silence. “You know that I will support you in whatever you decide to do.” And her lips quirk, faintly. Almost a smile, and it makes Aymeric smile. “By your leave, then, Lord Commander.” And she gives him a salute before she turns to go, leaving him to his thoughts.

\--

“...You are the most… the most _ridiculous_ man that I have ever known.” Estinien cracks an eye open, eyeing Aymeric with the most lazily patient gaze.

“It’s good to see you too. Are you going to chew me out, then?” Aymeric sits down on the bed heavily, and he rubs his face.

“No, no… Oh, Estinien… Fury, I thought I would never see you again. When they told me that the Eye had-- that you--”

“Hush. Don’t worry about it. It didn’t happen, did it?”

Aymeric takes a deep breath, and he says “It _could_ have. Oh, Estinien…” He reaches out, taking Estinien’s hand. “Please, do not dismiss my fretting. I thought that I had lost you. And before that I thought that I would have to watch the Archbishop pass condemnation on you… We are only so lucky that this incident warned us of Nidhogg waking, that your intentions weren’t malevolent, even if…” Estinien reaches out, winding his fingers in Aymeric’s hair and tugging him in to kiss him, and Aymeric’s train of thought is entirely derailed. He lets Estinien kiss him for a long time, so… so relieved, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. When Estinien finally pulls back with a harsh nip to bring Aymeric back to Hydaelyn, he looks pleased.

“I am hale and I am whole. The chirurgeons say that I shall heal quickly. ‘Tis a lingering weakness of the mind that is the true problem. I’m simply not to be in the field for a few weeks.”

“Which is technically your probation as well,” Aymeric adds, a little severely. “You are still in trouble, you know. I managed to soften it, though.” He leans in to kiss Estinien again, warm and lingering, just because he can’t help it. “I was so afraid,” he whispers against his lips. “Thank you… for coming back to me.” Estinien’s gaze does soften, then, the rare ease of his dark glower.

“I wouldn’t have died there. ...You know that now that the wyrm is woken, I…” Just as quickly, his gaze is solemn now. Aymeric kisses him again, cradling his face in his hands.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I will not stop your quest, my love. All I ask is that you try… try to keep coming back. For me.” He shuts his eyes, feeling his mood dampened a little. He would not begrudge Estinien his chosen path, nor his vengeance. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry. To what end Estinien will take this storm of emotions… What will happen if he does succeed, and he does live. All he can hope, he thinks, is to be there to pick up the pieces of him, to be there for him, that he isn’t left with nothing at all at the end of this road. Aymeric takes Estinien’s hand and squeezes it gently. “You know that I will always be waiting for you. That I am always here.” Estinien regards him, expression still solemn, a little sad. It’s so easy to read his face, Aymeric thinks distantly.

“I know,” Estinien says, low. “...I will try to come back. For you.” He squeezes his hand back. Aymeric nods, and he shuts his eyes, trying to quell the rising ache in his chest. He clings to those words, that promise.

“Thank you. I…” He takes a deep breath, and then he smiles faintly as he looks at Estinien again. “I will have to leave the city soon. I go to Camp Dragonhead, to meet with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Be good and rest, get well.” Estinien snorts, a soft and ugly sound, at that.

“Aye, aye… Fine. Until then, stay with me. I would monopolize the Lord Commander’s attention.”

Aymeric smiles. “Of course. I shall not leave your side for a moment, my friend.” He reaches out to brush hair from his face, and his voice goes warmer, then, teasing. “Rest, brave hero. I shall be here when you wake. I promise.” And he traces his gaze over the faint smile at Estinien’s lips, as he shuts his eyes, the even just incremental peace on his face… _Halone, grant him your grace. Grant him your strength and your mercy._ The Enchiridion says that to love each other is to be holy. To love is to be granted strength. Aymeric remembers the words so well from the texts the Lady de Borel would give him to read. Since laying eyes on Estinien, he has understood those words more than ever, he thinks.

_Halone, merciful Fury... I love him._


End file.
